


1959

by EclecticAce



Series: Shirley [3]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 00:58:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8424436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclecticAce/pseuds/EclecticAce
Summary: Takes place during late 1959, on the day Napoleon proposed to Shirley.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JordanUlysses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JordanUlysses/gifts).



> This was written purely to flesh out the Shirley character that bit more.

1959

 

                The unmistakable aroma of marijuana hit him as soon as he swung open the door that led into the main floor corridor of the walk-up. It was a smell he could absolutely admit to never getting used to, no matter how many times he smelled it. He made sure to avoid the damaged wooden bannister as he mounted the first step, but the sound of a familiar voice behind him pulled him back down.

                “Hey, hey Leon, my man!”

                Napoleon turned and smiled at the slight framed bearded man, who no doubt was one of the largest contributors to the building’s inescapable scent, standing just beyond the door. “Hey, Lenny,” he offered his hand to the man, “how have you been?”

                Lenny shook Napoleon’s hand in much the same way he usually did, with a strength that greatly belied the slimness of his body, and dropped it away quickly just before rubbing the palm of that hand down the thigh of his black denim jeans, in the exact same downward motion exactly three times and shoved it in the pocket of his jacket. “Ah, can’t complain too much, babe. Rent money’s in the bag, Charna got that thing at Katz-“

                “Hey, yeah, she was talking about going for it last time I saw her.”

                Lenny nodded, his dark eyes shinning bright in the dim light of the corridor, “I’ve a gig at the club two blocks from there, she brings left overs every night after they close.”

                 “Perfect.” He turned his attention to the stairs and then back to Lenny, “she’s in, right? I noticed Gino’s HJ in her spot so I-“

                “Yeah, man, she’s in.” Lenny shoved his other hand in a pocket and rolled his eyes skyward, “it’s been there nearly a week…broke down, man. All the fucking cars, ya know? And he picks a Henry J.” The hand he just put in the pocket appeared again, this time with a cigarette. Once he had the cigarette in his mouth, his hand went back back into the same pocket for a lighter. He lights it before he continues speaking, “we’re letting her use our spot on the next block.”

                “Thanks, man!” With that he jumped the first step and hurried up the rest of the stairs.

                Like he always did, Napoleon gave himself an imaginary little pat on the back when he made it to the fourth floor in less than two minutes without even breaking a sweat. He turned immediately and reached for the handle of the door that was never locked, no matter how much he begged them to do so, and stepped in. Only to come almost face to face with an unfamiliar man, with a severe military haircut wearing a t-shirt, and light khaki trousers, barely over the threshold of the galley kitchen, and into the hallway.  

                “Uh…” He shut the door behind him but kept his eyes on the man. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

                The man’s smile was easy as he looked around the room, locked eyes on one of the many monochromatic monstrosities Shirley’s roommates called art, and then turned back to Napoleon, shook his head and offered his hand, “Clark MacPherson, sir. You must be Napoleon.”

                Napoleon took Clark’s offered hand with a cheek splitting grin, “I am. And you’re Shirley’s brother.”

                “That I am, sir, yeah.” Clark dropped his hand away and turned his attention around the wall and called, “Lana, come introduce yourself to Napoleon.”

                A few seconds later a young girl, who was obviously related to both, but greatly favoured Shirley in almost everyway; right down to the curve of her eyebrows, came around the corner and stood at mock attention in front of Clark.

                Napoleon dropped his attention to the dark-haired girl and then looked back up at Clark and then back down. His grin never wavered.

                Clark waited for Lana to speak, but then huffed good naturedly and poked the girl in the shoulders with either pointer finger as he spoke for her. “This girl, who’s apparently been struck mute, is our trouble maker-“ Lana’s eyes shot up towards Clark in shock which made both men laugh, “I mean little sister, miss Lana Charlotte MacPherson.”

                “Well, hello Miss Lana Charlotte MacPherson,” Napoleon greeted and then laughed when he heard the girl mutter Clark’s name in a whispered voice before slapping her palm against her forehead. Much like her sister did when she was aggravated with something.

                “Well,” Clark started, putting a hand on both Lana’s shoulders. He turned her toward the living room again and then shoved her gently, “introduce yourself next time. Go tell Shirley Napoleon’s here.”

                The little girl huffed just like her brother had a couple moments later, rolled her shoulders and playfully stomped away as she muttered, “yeah, yeah…”

                Napoleon watched her disappear back behind the wall and then looked to Clark, “I’m going to guess and say she was the surprise.”

                Clark answered with a laugh and headed further into the apartment. He dropped into one of the many beanbags that covered the floor while Napoleon took up his usual seat on the couch, “I’ll be 25 in December, Shirley will be 22 in November…Lana just turned 11 in August.”

                Napoleon turned toward the window. One of Shirley’s roommates now stood inside and just to the left of it, patting down his t-shirt while the other one hiked her skirt up far enough to get her leg over the window ledge. Shirley stood away from the woman on the fire escape, waving her hands about her face and exhaling in quick short gasps. Lana had her back to the bunch, facing out toward the traffic down below and dangling her arms over the bannister, completely uninterested in what her sister and her friends. What they’d been doing on the fire escape frighteningly clear. He smelt it as soon as the window opened.

He looked back to Clark then. “She looks younger.”

Clark nodded, “so did Shirley. She still does, really.”

He was just about to voice his agreement when Shirley dropped down at the cushion beside him and threw her arms around his neck. “I know, I smell rancid, I’m sorry.” She pulled back within seconds, kissed his cheek, pulled his hand into her lap with both of hers, and turned to Clark. “I left space cadet out there. As long as she doesn’t lick the bannister she should be fine.”

“Hello, Napoleon,” another pair of arms came around his neck then half a second before he felt a pair of lips touch his cheek. He put his free hand to one of the arms around his neck and squeezed it gently, then turned as best he could toward the woman’s head and greeted her the same way he always did, “hello, lovely Lala.”

He looked back and watched the male, Lala’s boyfriend Cyrus, hand off a still lit joint to Clark before he sat down beside Shirley and leaned across her to slap Napoleon’s hand. “What’s happening, Agent man?”

Napoleon smirked in return and then, when Lala finally released her hold and went to move away, he turned back quickly and kissed her cheek. The immediate flush of her cheeks upon his returned greeting was quite evident to everyone in the room, even with her dark curly hair covering most of her cheeks, and was something Napoleon never tired of seeing.

 “I just finished work for the day, and baring any complications I’ve got tomorrow off.” He looked to Shirley and then dropped his attention to their joined hands, “little did I know you were entertaining or I wouldn’t have—“

“Nonsense!” Shirley exclaimed, bumping her shoulder against his. “We’re not entertaining anyone!”

Cyrus took the joint back from Clark and laughed as he wiped the end, “yeah, man,” he then put it in his mouth, bit down slightly and continued talking, “this cat ain’t nothing…he can find his own chick,” Clark and him then shared a smirk, “and Lana Banana is more an outdoor…cat.” The undignified snort from Clark that followed had the darker man fumbling like mad to maintain the joint’s position in his mouth as he broke into an absurdly loud round of giggles.

Napoleon rolled his eyes skyward for a split second and shook his head with an amused huff before he returned his attention to Shirley. Her attention, on the other hand, had shifted from him to them, but Napoleon couldn’t say he was upset. The obvious love and amusement that shone in her bright eyes made his heart stammer just a little bit.

He was in trouble. This he knew, and had known since that day in the library. He knew, if given the chance and means, Napoleon would make sure that, that look never once left her face for the rest of her life.

He wondered how rampant the gossip would be if he had Lala and Cyrus move in with them after the –

“Oh yes,” he paused until Shirley turned to look at him. When she did he kissed her nose before he continued, “I was wondering, however, if you’d like to go to the park for a bit…before the trees lose their colours.”

She smiled before she answered, “just let me jump in the shower, alright?”

\--

“Mum and dad don’t know they’re here,” Shirley spoke as they walked, swinging their joined hands enthusiastically as she went, like always. Shirley MacPherson never did anything without an incredible amount of enthusiasm. “They think Clark and Lana are off visiting my aunt Ester and uncle David in Connecticut.”

He nodded knowingly, “because you ran off…”

“Because I ran off.” She stopped swinging momentarily and looked to him. Her bright eyes dimmed, even in the early afternoon sun, “they don’t even talk about me anymore. They won’t let Lana mention my name and mum’s put away every photo with me in it.”

“You can’t blame yourself for their actions, Shirley.” Napoleon paused at the gates of the park and turned to face her completely. He took her other hand in his, “you followed your heart instead of your head and that takes far more courage than you think it does. You weren’t meant to be a Nun in Toronto, alright?” With that he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers gently and grinned when he pulled away to find her eyes still closed. “You were meant to work in a library, drop a brick on my foot and absolutely ruin me for all others.”

Shirley’s eyes flashed as a smirk played with the corner of her lips for a split second before she dropped her hands away from his and threw herself against his chest, “there’s been a Nun in my family every generation since the Roman Conquest of Britain, Napoleon…it was supposed to be me,” her forehead moved against his chest, “disappointment is one thing,” her arms came out, from their curled position against his chest, and wrapped around his waist. “What they’re doing, how they’re acting – I was excommunicated from everything I’d ever known because -because it wasn’t.” the tears now evident in her voice told him that his light grey suit now sported a growing dark spot. “It wasn’t me. I couldn’t be it.”

Napoleon’s arms came around her slowly as his chin lowered to rest on top of her head, “and you know what?” He tightened his hold and began to rock on his heels ever so gently, “I thank every God I know about, and even some I don’t, every day because you couldn’t.” He stopped talking for a moment and just listened to her battle to regain her composure. He then smiled to make sure it showed in his voice and continued, “what good would you have been to me in Toronto? Never mind a damned Nun?”

The open-handed slap to the chest was expected, “don’t say that.”

He laughed and carefully stepped back. “Can take the girl out of Catholicism,” his thumbs went to her cheeks to wipe away the tears that hadn’t fallen. The teary blue eyes that met his just then both broke his heart and strengthened his already steadfast resolve that he’d never, ever deliberately do anything or be anything that brought tears to her eyes or made the same type of pain ache in her chest. 

“You’ve got everyone you need in New York right now, ok? Just think of it that way. Clark will always find a way to see you and Lana will never be far behind…they’ll always be here when you need them.” A kiss to her forehead followed. “Just like me.”

The woman’s eyes fell to the uneven pavement beneath their feet as silence enveloped the couple for a solid ten minutes.

She had started walking long before the silence ended. In fact, if she hadn’t started talking he’d have still been standing there.

“Let’s get seeing these leaves, eh? Before the sun goes down and the real weirdos come out.” Shirley moved into the park before he could answer and disappeared beyond the wall.

Napoleon blinked a few more times and then ran. His arm looped around hers as soon as he caught up with her and he looked up. The enormous maple tree, the *only* maple tree that Napoleon knew of in the park, now provided them with an impenetrable bright red canopy and created quite possibly the largest omen imaginable. He was meant to ask here.

The arm not currently looped with hers, moved around to his back pocket. He unhooked his arm from hers as soon as his fingers wrapped around the object and took a couple steps back. Shirley watched, puzzled, but otherwise unmoved.

With a quick look to the soggy ground beneath him and a quick apology to his tailor Napoleon lowered himself to one knee and finally pulled his hand from his pocket. “Shirley?”

Shirley blinked and promptly paled. “Napoleon?”

He laughed, even as his throat started to constrict and his fingers started to numb. “I had this all planned out, you know? Quote Shakespeare, tap my toe and somewhere in there ask you…but, I can’t right now. I can’t think-“

She shook her head and took a step toward him, “forget it all. Forget everything.” Her hands enveloped the one with the ring in it even as her attention stayed focused on him. “Just ask.”

His leg started to wobble as his eyes started to burn and it was that foreign feeling of burning that finally forced him into action. His hand fell open in unison with his words, “marry me.”

The ring was on her finger even before his mind had registered her answer and she was in his arms, off the ground, before he felt he could breath again.

Once he let her back down Shirley spoke, her attention fixed solely on the thin band of gold that now adorned her finger, “I want to do it fast-“

This time it was Napoleon’s turn to pale.

They’d only done it once!

“You’re not—“

Her head shot up a millisecond later. “No! No! God, no! I just-“ her eyes dropped to the ring again, “I want to.”

Who was he to argue? Life of a spy and all that…you never really knew when the final curtain fell. 

His arms wrapped around her once more and yanked her none too gently toward him, “then we will.” He pressed his lips against hers then and let his surroundings fade almost completely away. Nothing could ever touch him now. He’d fight anything or anybody and win.

\--

“We’ll have to wait until Clark’s next leave,” Napoleon kept his attention ahead of them as they walked, someone needed to get them through the crowds uninjured. His cheeks were beginning to hurt from the grin that hadn’t left his face since they’d left the park because he knew that, though Shirley was talking to him and had been talking to him almost constantly since they’d started back home, she didn’t see him at all. In fact, since he’d proposed, she hadn’t looked at him longer than a full minute before her eyes were back on the ring. A smaller man may have felt a bit dejected, really, but he’d let her enjoy it.

It only happened once in a lifetime after all.

“And when’s that?”

“March,” a frustrated sigh followed the sound of her palm hitting her forehead. "God, that’s so far away.”

His chest puffed with something akin to pride when he replied with, “I think you’ll survive just fine.”

“I wonder what colour Lana wants her dress…”

Napoleon stayed silent on the subject and just listened as her mind worked. She’d no doubt shift over to something else in a couple –

“Should I wear white? I mean… June.”

His only answer was a loud and boisterous laugh.

“You’re absolutely no help.”

Yep, they’d be fine.

End

**Author's Note:**

> I enjoy writing this series of stories and I hope people have enjoyed reading it.


End file.
